Page 46 of First Comes Revenge

I give his arm a squeeze, leaning in and smiling. It really is beautiful watching the way Vaughn is squirming and trying to argue as someone pulls up a chair and sits him down.

The cowboy stripper starts tying Vaughn up while the tiger and pro wrestler stripper holds him still.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Vaughn snaps. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“We know exactly who you are,” the officer says, leaning in close. “You’re a bad, bad boy, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” He punctuates his question by violently pulling his vest off, then tossing it to the ground. He points the dildo stick at Vaughn, then aggressively flips around, bending over at the waist with an impressive show of flexibility.

Vaughn tries to look away, but the pro wrestler stripper holds his head from behind, making him look at the officer’s ass. Technically theyaretouching him, but at least the touching isn’t sexual. He could also close his eyes, but he’s keeping them wide, whether out of defiance or fascination, I can’t say.

Everybody is laughing and clapping. The strippers all start prancing around, dancing and taking turns doing elaborate moves in front of Vaughn, who looks absolutely livid.

The madness goes on for a solid minute or two before Griffon Vanderlesh storms through the crowd, takes one look at the strippers, his son, and then Nolan. He inserts himself into the mix, shoving the men away from his son. “This is over the line, Gray.” He points an accusatory finger at Nolan as everybody backs up a half step.

Nolan holds up his hands. “Don’t point at me. Your son apparently hired them.”

“Bullshit,” Vaughn shouts as his father unties him. He gets up, moving to jab a finger into Nolan’s chest. “This just proves all the those posters were you assholes all along.”

Jameson leaves my side and pushes Vaughn away from Nolan. “Get your finger off him,” he warns. “And be careful about the accusations you throw around.”

“Be careful who you fuck with,” Griffon counters.

The police officer sticks his face in the middle of the confrontation. “Sorry if this is a bad time, but our customers usually tip. We take Venmo or Cashapp. I’ll just leave my card.” He sticks a card in the breast pocket of Vaughn’s jacket and gives it a pat, then winks.

The four strippers stroll off to the bar and a small group of women follow after them.

The crowd is dispersing, but Nolan is still squared off with Griffon and Jameson is facing Vaughn. Both men look like they might come to blows at any moment. I don’t want them to fight.

I hurry to Jameson and take his arm. “Come on. Vaughn probably needs to walk off his erection after that.”

Vaughn’s eyes blaze with sudden rage. “What did you just say?”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t my best attempt at diffusing a fight.

Jameson steps between us this time. He let me have my chance to put Vaughn in his place before the strippers. I can see now how hard he must’ve been holding back. I’ve never seen Jameson look so mad. “Give me an excuse,” he says. He’s speaking in a completely normal, but quiet voice. Jameson’s body language says he’s ready to hit Vaughn, but his voice is calm. The contrast is chilling, and Vaughn must feel it too.

He lowers his eyes immediately and shakes his head. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Give the big oaf an excuse to solve things with his fists.”

Jameson’s voice is still low and dangerous. “I don’t usually, but I’ll make an exception for you. Happily.”

Vaughn raises his eyes again. “You know what? Maybe you should take your little slut somewh–”

That’s as far as he gets before Jameson’s arm rockets straight out. There’s a sound like brick’s cracking together and Vaughn is on his back, touching his cheek.

Jameson is looming over him, feet planted wide and hands bunched into fists. “Well?”

I’m not sure what Jameson is expecting Vaughn to say, but I’m also not exactly sure what goes through the heads of men who get in fist fights.Probably not a whole lot.

“Get off me,” Vaughn manages through clenched teeth.

Jameson steps off him and gestures, as if Vaughn needs reminding where the exit is. “If you’re planning to press charges, just contact our legal department directly.” There’s a dismissive tone to Jameson’s words, as if no part of him even expects Vaughn to do anything but go running to the authorities.

Vaughn glares up at him and gets to his feet, straightening his clothes. Griffon Vanderlesh is watching, along with a huge crowd of Landmark and Grey Wolfe employees, who have all gone completely silent. It’s not every day you see your boss punch out the son of your rival company’s boss, after all.

For a minute, I think Vaughn might actually try to hit Jameson back. Then he unclenches his fists and scoffs. “Fuck you,” Vaughn says, storming off without another word.

Jameson spreads his arms, smiling, as if nothing happened. “Who doesn’t love a good old healthy rivalry, right?”

There is a scattering of nervous laughter. Nolan emerges and gives Jameson’s shoulder a squeeze. “I promise Jameson won’t punch anyone else. Let’s all just get back to having fun.”

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